Reversed
by Indie204
Summary: Remember in the last Hunger Games novel when the remaining victors had a vote to hold a final Hunger Games using Capital children? This is a story from the view of a capital child who has every reason to hate Katniss Everdeen that is sent to the games.
1. Chapter 1: Shot down

**Does everyone remember when all the victors voted to have a final hunger games using capital children? Well this is a story in the perspective of a capital child that has every reason to hate Katniss Everdeen that is sent into the games. Please enjoy!**

I'm sitting in my home on the couch, watching a televised bombing of District Eight. I'm watching the bombs rain down destroying the enemy, the rebels that are trying to destroy the peace in our nation. President Snow appears on the television screen, congratulating the capital soldiers on the successful bombing of the main rebel bases in eight. I smile with pride. My grandfather, President of Panem, and my father, head of the president's army. He is in eight right now, in hovercraft zero nine three. Suddenly another flight appears in the sky.

"Mum look, it's dad's hover craft! He's in the point plane!" I say to my mother, who is watching her show one of our other TVs. She runs in, wearing her favorite designer jeans with her one should top and neon pink streaks in her hair. That is her only extravagant feature. She does not have any tattoos or skin dyes. In Capital standards, she is quit plain, but I think she's beautiful.

" Why, yes it is," she says with a smile

I'm so proud of my father. He is out there in the war, fighting the rebels, fighting to save Panem. I love him so much.

I leave the room to grab a snack from our kitchen but a cry from my mother brings me right back in the living room just in time to see my fathers plane get shot down in a burst of flame. "Dad!" I scream. I run over to the TV and put my hands on the glass. My father's hover craft crashes into a blue warehouse, which also bursts into flames. My mother is staring at the TV in shock, as if she's not really grasping what happened.

" What? How…" She whispers

The camera locks on someone standing on the warehouse across from the one that my father's hover plane crashed into. There are three people on the roof, but the hovercraft's camera is to far away to make out who they are.

Suddenly the camera zooms in to the people on the warehouse. There's Paylor, past victor and mayor of Eight, and… Gale Hawthorn! One of the leading rebels from Thirteen! And the last figure… Katniss Everdeen! The Mocking jay is in Eight! I can't really make out what she's doing. She's lifting some long, slender object in her arms and is pointing it at the hovercraft that is filming at the moment. She makes an odd pulling motion with her arms and something flies out of the object. It's coming closer and closer to the screen and it's about a meter away from the plane. The last thing I see on the TV is an arrow before it hits the hovercraft and the screen goes static. I gasp as I realize that that was how my father's hover craft was crashed. The Mocking jay, Katniss Everdeen… she just killed my father.


	2. Chapter 2: Trapped

**O.k. , I don't know if anyone has noticed, but I write really short chapters cause when I feel like a chapter is done I end it, so ya, please enjoy and review please so I can improve my writing!**

_Chapter 2: Trapped_

My hand slides off the TV screen.

"Lyle…" my mother starts.

I bolt. Down the hall, out the front door, onto the street. I take in a deep breath of air, but it only makes me inhale the smog and fumes of the Capital, and it catches in my throat. I'm looking around me now, head darting in every direction like an animal caught in a trap, looking for I place to get away, to hide from the monster that has just crept into my life, bringing its dark friends, sadness and hopelessness. But there is nowhere. I am trapped in this city, with its tall buildings so close together that it's suffocating. I'm running through the streets, hunting for a place where I can hide from the strange looks people are giving me, where I can escape reality for a while, where I can try to convince myself that my father is fine, that the Mocking jay did not shoot down his hover craft, that he isn't dead. But no, the Capital will not allow me this luxury of escape. It's like a labyrinth with no way out, just passage after passage.

I concede defeat and return home. I walk through the front door, past my mother who has been crying, who reaches for me and says "Lyle, please," up the stairs, and into my room, locking the door behind me. I open the doors to my closet, which is almost the same size as my bedroom and begin tearing everything out and throwing it onto the floor in a fit of mad despair. All my party gowns, my shawls, my shoes, scarves, everything, I'm screaming now, in an insane fit of anger. The sadness is gone for now, but no doubt it will return. But not now. Now all I feel is a deep, passionate hatred for the Mocking Jay. I want her to feel what it's like to loose everything. I want her to feel what I felt. I want her to die. My closet is empty now I've thrown everything out onto the floor. No, wait, there is still something left. I reach back into the depths of my closet and pull out a garment back. I unzip it and something between a sob and a gasp come out of my mouth. The dress is made of silk, turquoise with a light green under skirt and thin shoulder straps, adorned with all sorts of blue and green gems of sapphires and turquoise. This is the dress I was going to wear to my father's coming home party. I fall to the ground and lie curled up in a ball and wail.

I continue this until my voice gives out and I have no more tears left to cry. I pick myself up off the floor and straighten up and look in the mirror. My eyes are red and splotchy and my hair is a tangled mess. I look like a wild animal, so far from the distressed heroines in the books I love to read. I brush back my hair from my face then go over to the sink and wash my face and comb through my hair. After this I look in the mirror and am glad to see that I resemble a human being again. Then I walk out of my bedroom and head down the stairs that lead to the living room. I need to be strong for my mother, who must be bewildered and confused. First she saw her husband die on live television, and then I was so rude and distant to her, which I have never done, ever. I put on a brave face and walk into the living room over to the couch and sit beside her.

She throws her arms around my neck and sobs.

"Lyle, I – I just got a call from one of the members of the squad your father was with. They're bringing him back to the Capital for the funeral. I-I'm so sorry!"

This, the sight of my mother, who is always so strong, who never cried, sobbing her heart out crumbles my wall of strength and I sit beside and we weep together.


	3. Chapter 3: Savages

This is eight months later, at the time where Peeta and Katniss are just inside the Capital with Gale and the others, just before the surrender. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW! Also, if anyone has any ideas please share, I need all the help I can get! :p

_Chapter 3: _

**Eight months later.**

I am trudging through the snow as it swirls around my ankles. The bitter wind howls and sends up swirling clouds of snow and, even wrapped in my thick fur coat, I shiver. Thankfully my mother had the insight to bring our coats and hats, along with a few precious belonging from our home, unlike some of the other refugees that are fleeing, who carry little to nothing from their homes, and some are still in their pajamas. We are all heading towards the inner part of the capital. We received the announcement on the television early this morning, confirming our worst fears. The rebels have broken through and are now fighting there way towards the heart of the capital, President Snow's mansion. That's where I am headed. Being his granddaughter I am staying with him until the rebels have been defeated. The peacekeepers have been assigning the other refugees places of sanctuary in the homes and shops closest to the president's mansion.

We've reached the mansion now and are being ushered inside by armed guards. They lead us to an elevator that we ride down into the bowels of the mansion, and we're lead each into a sparsely furnished room with a double bed and a small dresser and a chair, connected by a hall way that leads to the bathroom. My mother sets her things on the dresser and pulls me close. She has become so much more frail and breakable ever since my dad died. I find she has become more withdrawn from me, as though she can't risk loving anything else, in risk of losing it again. I now have to protect her and shield her from things that weren't necessary before. I hug her back and say

"Don't worry mum, grandfather will stop them. He'll protect us."

After dinner my mother lay down in one of the beds and fell asleep almost immediately, but I'm too restless to sleep, my head swimming with terrified thoughts. What if the rebels break through into the square? What if they have weapons that surpass our own?

" No," I have to remind my self, " these are just savages from the districts. We won the rebellion once, and we'll win it again. I hope."

The clock reads two in the morning, and I accept that this will be another sleepless night. I rarely sleep at all now, because of the nightmares. I watch my father die and the Mocking Jay laughing as she watches his hover craft explode to pieces, or my mother dying and me being left alone. I get out of bed and walk out the door into the lavish hallway adorned with paining and wall hanging and statues. The guards warned us not to leave, for our safety, but the walls in the bedroom seem to be closing in on me, and I have to escape. I feel like I can't breathe. I need to get out side.

I run down the hall, trying doors at random, until I find one that's unlocked. I open the door and slowly step into a dimly lit room. It's full with extremely strange metal contraptions, with straps and sharp objects that gleam wickedly. " What is all this?" I think to myself. Suddenly I hear heavy footsteps, and a strange dragging noise, approaching out in the hall, heading towards this strange room. I panic, having this feeling that for whatever reason, I'm not supposed to be in this room. I duck into a nearby closet, leaving the door open just a crack so that a sliver of the room comes into focus. The scene I see playing out before me does not make sense. Two guards drag a limp boy around my age into the room and lay him on one of the metal tables. At first I think he's hurt, and then men in white doctors uniforms appear and confirm it. They give him an injection that revives him immediately. See, hear in the capital, we save people. We are good, I think to myself. But there's something wrong. Something in this wonderful scene of savior is off. It's the boy. His is expression is wrong. There is some emotion in his eyes that is out of place. Suddenly the scene is changing. They strap him down to the table, but he doesn't resist. " What have they done to him?" this thought suddenly pops in my head and I am disgusted at myself. These are good capital citizens, what reason would they have to harm him? One of the doctors clears his throat and says, " Begin." For one split second, the boys eyes meet mine, and the look in his eyes screams " HELP ME!" and suddenly the machines come to life and thy are hurting him in terrible ways, cutting and shocking and beating and I watch the whole episode from my hiding place. The boy screams and screams and screams. Before long my head is filled with the sounds of his pain, and all I can think is "make it stop, please, make it stop!" Finally, after what seems like hours they turn the machines off, and the boy lies there sweating, his face contorted in agony. At last it's finally over. I wait as the men take the straps off and drag the boy out of the room and down the hall. As soon as I can no longer hear their footsteps I burst from the cupboard and run down the hall, pulling open every door until I find one that leads outside. I'm in a small courtyard that is simulated to make you feel like you're outside. There is even a slight breeze. I sit on the ground and place my head between my knees. My breathing is coming out in gasps and there are black spots swimming in my vision. The expression in the boys face. It was terror. He was tortured. And I just sat and watched. I will never be able to get the image of his face out of my head. I realize I am hysterically sobbing now. This is not good; people cannot ask why I am crying, what I have seen. I wipe my face on my sleeve and stand up. I have to find the boy. I have to redeem myself, to help him like I should have. I return to my room and lie back down to try to fall asleep, but when I close my eyes, all I can see is the boy, and one last that pops in my head " maybe the savages aren't in the districts after all."


End file.
